


i found love (where it wasn't supposed to be)

by Starofwinter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Handwaving, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Dean says all the things he's wanted to say for too long, even if it's too late.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	i found love (where it wasn't supposed to be)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a handwavey fix-it because I need the serotonin. I hope you all like it too!

“Cas, I don’t- I don’t think you can hear me anymore, can you?” 

Dean takes a long pull off the bottle of Jack in his hands, looking up at the stars. Tears are already tracking down his cheeks, and he doesn’t bother to wipe them away. Sam and Jack are asleep, and there’s no one for miles to see him crying. The shock that had settled the second Castiel started his confession has worn off, and now he has to feel it all, whether he wants to or not.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he finally says, “I thought about it- fuck, I thought about it every damn day. I thought we’d have more time, you know? I was gonna tell you after we killed Chuck, or if we couldn’t. I was gonna tell you, I swear. I thought if we could just pull one more out of our asses, then I’d tell you and we could have a chance.” His voice breaks, and he bends forward, his chest almost touching his knees as his quiet sobs echo in the trees.

He wants to scream, but it won’t escape his throat; the pressure builds and builds in his chest with no release. He wants to be angry, to rage the way he would have before, the way he always has, but there’s nothing left but a defeated kind of resignation.

“I miss you so fuckin’ much, Cas,” he finally whispers, when the grief gripping his throat relents just a little. Only silence answers.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, his arms wrapped around his chest, until a hand on his shoulder jerks him into awareness.

“Dean.”

He looks up into concerned blue eyes. “I’m dreaming, huh?” He still feels drunk which is weird - he usually doesn’t feel drunk whenever he falls asleep. 

“No, you’re not.” Castiel pulls him up, his hand still wrapped around his bicep, over the burn mark that’s still there a decade after he pulled him out of hell. “I don’t know how, but… I came back.”

It could be anything wearing Cas’ face, Dean knows, but right now, he doesn’t care. He can’t care. When he stands up, his legs give out, numb from sitting for so long, and the chest against his is solid, and the arms around him are warm, and Castiel still smells like the cheap, shitty aftershave Jack bought all of them for Father’s Day, and it feels for just a second like everything is going to be okay. 


End file.
